


ice can't fix these bruises

by lancethewriter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Keith is sad and Lance tries to help, Lots of Angst, M/M, Self-Harm, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 18:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15891186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lancethewriter/pseuds/lancethewriter
Summary: While Lance is up late searching for something good to eat, he doesn't expect to see Keith out and about. What's more, he didn't expect Keith to open up about his demons.-Or, Lance surprises Keith three times in one night.





	ice can't fix these bruises

Lance was up for a midnight snack, and he was rummaging through the kitchen looking for something to satisfy his cravings; he cracked a smile when he closed a hand around a tin of cookies that Hunk had baked earlier that day. Grinning ear to ear, he pulled out several of the chocolate chip delights and popped them into the microwave for a few seconds. He hit the ‘stop’ button before the sound would go off, and he sat at the counter with his plate of goodies.

He was halfway through his snack when he heard someone enter the kitchen. The lights were off and he couldn’t see clearly, but he’d recognize that mullet anywhere. 

“Keith?” he asked, causing the red paladin to jump. His teammate whirled around to face him, a look of surprise on his face.

“Oh, hey Lance,” Keith said with a small sigh of relief. “I didn’t see you there. What are you doing up?”

“I got hungry,” he answered, gesturing to the cookies in front of him. “What about you?”

He shrugged, moving towards the fridge. “I just needed some ice.” 

Lance tilted his head in confusion as his friend pulled open the freezer door. “Did you hurt yourself or something?”

Keith shook his head. “Nah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright, man…” Lance resumed the elegant process of munching on his cookies. He eyed Keith suspiciously, watching him fill an ice bucket and tuck it under his arm, carrying it away as he returned to his room. 

He rolled his eyes and concentrated on finishing his desserts. Once he had done so, he tossed the plate into the sink and shuffled sleepily down the hall back to his quarters, taking the same steps that Keith had taken mere moments prior. His room was towards the end of the hall, after Keith’s room but before Hunk’s. As he passed his friend’s room, he paused, turning to look at the door as if expecting someone to emerge.

No one did.

Lance breathed deeply, taking a minute to think. Whatever Keith’s secret project involving ice cubes happened to be, he wanted to find out. ‘Maybe he’s making snow cones,’ he thought, grinning at the idea of the frozen treat. He leaned over to access the door console, and he opened it without a second thought.

Unexpectedly, Keith’s room was dark. The only light came from an LED hand light that lay discarded across the floor. There was no snow cone machine - the room was devoid of any contraptions, and on top of that it was devoid of life. The red paladin sat next to the bed on the floor, the ice bin beside him. Once again, Lance’s presence presented a shock to Keith, and he scrambled to his feet.

“Lance, what are you--”

“Man, I thought you’d be making snow cones in here or something,” Lance pouted, crossing his arms. “But it’s just Keith and his satanic ritual. What are you doing anyway?”

A shadow of anger fell over Keith’s face. “Why are you in my room?”

“Woah, buddy,” Lance said hastily, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’m here to check on you. What’s going on?”

An ice cube was dropped into the bucket. “It’s nothing.”

That was when Lance began to worry. Until then, he hadn’t suspected anything was amiss, but the alarm bells were ringing. “I think that’s a lie,” he said softly.

Keith narrowed his eyes. “What the hell, Lance. Just go.”

He shook his head, stepping further into the room. “Okay, you’re going through something.” He plopped himself down on Keith’s bed, patting the space next to him. “Talk to me.”

Keith looked as if he was about to protest, but he took a seat next to Lance. “Next time, knock.”

“Okay, I will. So, what’s up?”

Keith looked at Lance, and they stared at each other for several tense seconds. Finally, Keith turned his gaze to the floor. “What’s up? That’s a great way to start this.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mister Satanist. Let me start over.” Lance cleared his throat. “Please talk to me about whatever you’re dealing with.”

He rolled his eyes, but eventually he let out a tired sigh. “I’m just a little frustrated, that’s all.”

Lance gestured for him to continue, very clearly dissatisfied with the answer. “Elaborate.”

“I don’t know, Lance, you’re--” Keith cut himself off and began again. “You’ll think differently of me.”

“I promise, I won’t.”

“But you don’t know that.”

Lance offered a small, reassuring grin. “You’ll always be my mullet.”

Keith shoved Lance playfully, muttering, “Good god” under his breath, but his face held an expression of gratitude. “I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning?”

“Right. The beginning.” He laughed, but it was an empty, humorless laugh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, you know? I’m flying the Black Lion, we have Shiro, I have my mom - it’s everything I ever wanted. I should be happy. But I’m not.”

Keith looked to see if Lance was still listening - he was listening, in fact, he was paying very close attention. 

“I’m not happy, Lance, and I don’t understand why. We finally have peace and I… I feel horrible. I don’t get it.”

Lance put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Hey, man, I understand what you mean.”

“Except you don’t, you don’t understand.” Keith shrugged his hand away. “You don’t know what it’s like, to live like this for your whole life. To spend your nights desperate and alone.” He turned away again, and Lance swore he heard a sniffle. “You don’t get what it’s like to sit on the bathroom floor with a knife pressed to your wrist. To keep the water running even though you got out of the shower a long time ago, because you don’t want anyone to see you like that.”

Keith took a deep, shaky breath, but he clearly wasn’t finished. “Do you understand how it feels to be labelled as the ‘troubled kid’? To be sent away because you can’t stop hurting yourself?” He laughed again with the same dark, unsettling chuckle. “I’ve been clean for months. Months, now. But I don’t see the point anymore.” He kicked over the ice bucket, sending several cubes and some water tumbling onto the floor. “I don’t know why I bother. It hurts to not hurt, Lance.”

“So that’s what I’m going through. That’s what’s up with me.” He brought a hand to his face and wiped at something around his eyes - tears? “Feel free to judge now.”

For the third time that night, Lance surprised Keith; he reached over and took his hand, smiling at him softly. Their eyes met, and he could see all of the hurt and pain and the demons that plagued him. “You’re right. I don’t understand it.” He shifted so that his body was facing Keith. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not here for you. I can be your shoulder to lean on, Keith.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, too.”

Lance squeezed his hand. “You could never, mullet.”

Something in Keith snapped, and before either of them knew what was happening, Lance was holding him in his arms, and Keith was crying. The red paladin mumbled apologies between hitched breaths and shaky sobs, but Lance hushed him quickly.

“It’s alright, Keith, I’ve got you. I’m not letting go.”

**Author's Note:**

> *Bonus*  
> Lance: looks like I'm cradling you now, heh  
> Keith: so you DO remember you little SHIT


End file.
